Doubletake
by Kristen Sharpe
Summary: A series of events leads the SWAT Kats and the Enforcers to a startling discovery about MegaKat City's technological prowess. One that may have ramifications for the entire planet as a scheme ten years in the making comes to light. [Work In Progress]
1. Prologue

Title: Doubletake   
Prologue   
Author: Kristen Sharpe  
E-Mail: skgirl@hotmail.com  
Date: April 26, 2002  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: May contain slightly more than average violence for a children's cartoon.  
Disclaimer: "SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron," its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.   
  
Author's note: I started this story a *long* time ago. Now, more than five years, three computer disks, and one complete restart later, I'm trying once more. Many, many thanks to my brother, Kitty G/Giant, Sage, IRL friends Tammy, Chaille, Kat, Beth, and my mother for their help and suggestions with this story. And, a very special thanks to the Raley computer lab "miracle workers," without whose help a lot of this story would have been lost due to my third disk malfunction.   
  
This story is a work of fiction, and any relation to any person living or dead is probably deliberate.  
  
Now, to try to prevent some confusion, here's a timeline of my fanfics - how they relate to the show and each other. These include those that I've co-authored with my brother, The Seeker. Everything takes place in the same world. Time listed is not the time I wrote the stories, but rather the time it is in the SWAT Kats' world when the story takes place.  
  
Late 1994 -- the final show episode that I saw, "Unlikely Alloys," takes place.  
Early 1995 -- H2Oh, No!   
1995 -- Nuke It - first of the Seeker Trilogy  
Technical Difficulties  
Have Yourself a Mad Little Christmas  
1996 -- Hide N' Seeker - second of the Seeker Trilogy  
Silent Pursuit  
Guard Duty  
The Storm's Drawing Nearer  
  
This story finally explains the mystery of "Silent Pursuit."  
  
----------------------------------------  
Prologue -- 1986 Felinus time  
----------------------------------------  
  
--Revenge really *is* a dish best served cold. It's a cold and empty meal too. As cold and empty as the void.--  
  
He knew the void. He didn't know how long he was in the void. But, it felt endless. There was nothing in the void. Emptiness. Darkness. Cold.  
  
A reflection.  
  
A reflection of what revenge does to the soul.  
  
The only thing the void couldn't reflect was the hunger. A hunger that could only be sated by more.  
  
More.  
  
Revenge.  
  
They would pay. And, it was worth it. Worth the deal. Worth ten years in cryostasis. Ten years like this. Ten years with only his thoughts for company. His thoughts. And, the nightmares.  
  
"The bomb's stuck!"  
  
"You stupid....!"  
  
"Shut up! We need a....!"  
  
Then, there was the pain. Excruciating, agonizing. Then, it was gone. And, in its place... the void.  
  
Over and over again, he relived the cycle.  
  
Ten years.  
  
Over and over again.  
  
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To Be Continued....  
  
This chapter thing is a new experiment for me. I'm going to try to stay several chapters ahead of my posts as I'm prone to constant re-writes. Actually, just because of my habit of re-working parts of a story over and over, I wouldn't try posting in chapters with any other story at this point. But, this story is essentially complete... It's just that over 90% of it was written several years ago, and I no longer like my old writing style or some of my ideas. So, the old text is an outline. I know where I'm going. With any luck, by the time a chapter is posted, its content will be set and I won't come to a point later where I'll want to re-write it. So, let's see how this thing goes! 


	2. Summon the Heroes

Title: Doubletake   
Chp 1: Summon the Heroes  
Author: Kristen Sharpe  
E-Mail: skgirl@hotmail.com  
Date: April 27 2002  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: May contain slightly more than average violence for a children's cartoon.  
Disclaimer: "SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron," its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.   
  
Author's note: I've been fighting with this chapter/scene for literally months now. It's original incarnation had a lot of in-jokes that I've slowly stripped out one by one because they were getting excessive. The segment was literally twenty pages long. Now, it's long, but I think everything included has a point and it all contributes to setting up the story... I hope. Please, please, please let me know if there's any way I can improve this. I'm posting it because, if I don't, I might beat on it forever.   
  
----------------------------  
Chapter 1: Summon the Heroes - 1996  
----------------------------  
  
A straggling ray of light crept through the dusty, closed blinds to play across the face of the sleeping tomkat below. With an inarticulate mumble, the tawny kat swatted at it and rolled over. Five minutes later, his internal clock sounded, urging him to wakefulness.  
  
"Mmmmmm...."  
  
Jake Clawson slit sleep-laden amber eyes open and aimed his gaze toward where he knew his alarm clock must be. As expected, it was on the tiny table by his bed, safely close to him and out of range of Chance's morning wrath. Its red letters, muzzy in his fogged sight, read "8:52 am."  
  
"Hmmm...."   
  
Jake rolled away from the clock, pulling his sheet up under his chin. Several endless instants ticked away before the information he'd just seen could properly filter into his sleepy consciousness. But, once it did, Jake wasted no time processing it.  
  
"8:52?!" Jake sat up and stared at the clock in dawning horror. "The parade!"   
  
He was out of bed in an instant, the covers flying in his wake.   
  
"CHANCE!!!"  
  
Jake cleared the narrow space between his and his best friend's bed in a single bound and began shaking his partner.   
  
"Chance, wake up! We're late!"  
  
"Fi' more mi'utes....," Chance muttered in response, hugging his already squished pillow tighter.  
  
"We don't HAVE five minutes!!!!" Jake screamed. He leaned in to give his larger friend a push.  
  
With a groan, Chance obligingly rolled out of the bed, catching himself on his feet just before he tumbled into the floor. "I'm uuuuuup!" he moaned, standing and beginning to stagger for the bathroom.  
  
"Faster!" Jake ordered, dashing to his chest of drawers to dig out a suitable pair of jeans. "We have a *parade* to attend!"  
  
Chance paused and turned to face his friend. "It's not the Seventh."  
  
"The SWAT Kat Day Parade!"  
  
Chance blinked and watched Jake frantically dress for a minute before asking, "Then, shouldn't we go in our flight suits?"  
  
Jake's scream of frustration echoed across the Salvage Yard.  
  
---------------------------------------   
  
Ann Gora craned her neck to see the crowded streets below.  
  
"I've never seen so many kats turn out for a parade," she breathed, eager to get down there and start broadcasting.  
  
Beside her, her usual camerakat, Jonny, grinned as he trained his camera on the crowds, getting a nice panning shot up and down the street. "Well, it was you that said anything the SWAT Kats did was big news," he reminded her.  
  
Ann grinned. "And, is this parade ever big news! No one's ever heard of such a thing - a parade for vigilantes." The slim brunette paused and looked thoughtful. "I can't decide if I want to interview Commander Feral or not." She held up both hands and pretended to weigh the options. "On the one hand, I get the reaction." A frown crossed her face. "On the other... I have to face the grouchiest kat in MegaKat City." Ann paused with her arms raised and glanced at her watch. "Almost time to start. We should get down there."  
  
Jonny gave her a petulant glance. He'd been hoping to catch the SWAT Kats' entrance from the rooftop. There were other camerakats assigned to the shot, one in the Kats Eye chopper even, but Jonny hoped to out-do them all with what he believed was a superior position.  
  
Anne sighed, but nodded good-naturedly to his silent plea. "Alright. But, just a few more minutes."  
  
A smile blossomed beneath Jonny's dark glasses, and he trained his camera on the distant horizon.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Below, expectant parade-goers and participants waited for the cue signalling that it was showtime. High school bands milled impatiently, hot even in the thinner than average uniforms used in the subtropical MegaKat. Horns blatted disconsonantly. Timpani rattled anxiously.  
  
The dark-furred director of the band that would lead the parade was sweeping his eyes over his teenage charges one last time. Satisfied, he stepped aside and nodded to the drum major waiting at his side. She smiled and returned the nod before stepping forward. The sequins on the slim teenkat's dress sparkled in the morning light as she took her place in front of the band. She glanced expectantly toward the Enforcer cruiser waiting to move out and announce the start of the parade.   
  
The Enforcer inside nodded, probably far too eagerly for Commander Feral's taste. But, the Commander was nowhere in sight. Besides, SWAT Kats or not, he'd never led a parade before. With a grin, he activated the car's siren. The siren's whoop sent scores of MegaKat City's citizens crowding up against the Enforcer barricades that cordoned off the street. Taking a moment to revv the engine a couple times, the Enforcer reluctantly headed his cruiser headed down the street at the crawl a parade required.  
  
Behind him, the drum major faced the band. Her arms swept into the air, sequins flashing so brightly the dazzle momentarily blinded the first row of players. The band's opening number burst forth.  
  
And, tens of thousands of eyes strained to see the opening of the SWAT Kat Day parade.   
  
Kats had turned out in droves, some even flying in from the east, for the gala event honoring the famous, or infamous depending on who you asked, SWAT Kats. They were considered a novelty in other parts of the country, a curiosity. A parade for them was an even bigger curiosity. A parade that almost wasn't. It had taken the urging of Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs and her shrewd reminder that an election year *was* nearing for Mayor Manx to finally fulfil his forgotten promise of years before. The empty promise he'd made to the two SWAT Kats when they saved him from the Metallikats. But, Callie Briggs had not forgotten it, nor did she think it should remain empty.  
  
Now, everyone was waiting expectantly for the SWAT Kats' arrival. Eyes darted from the leading band to the sky. Ears that knew what to listen for pricked forward to hear that familiar, welcome sound.   
  
One young kitten, sitting on his father's shoulders, caught the first, faintest flash of light in the sky. Instantly, his still baby blue-gray eyes found the shape of the sleek jet.   
  
"Daddy!!!" the kitten's hand shot out to point upward, "The TurboKat!"  
  
Eyes followed the tiny hand as a loud shout went up from the crowd.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
"Our public awaits, Razor!" the burly T-Bone boomed as the street below, teeming with kats, loomed ever nearer through the persplex of the TurboKat's canopy.  
  
"Just cut the throttle, bud, or they'll all be deaf," Razor returned.  
  
"Aww.... I wanted ta' come in with a bang."  
  
"Wings in subsonic mode, T-Bone," was Razor's dry response.  
  
"Awww... You've gotten boring in your old age, Razor," T-Bone teased, looking in the mirror and noting that Razor's dry comments failed to match his grinning face.  
  
Callie Briggs' voice broke into the cockpit via the distress ban, temporarily ending the game. "Right on time, guys."   
  
"We aim ta' please," T-Bone returned, giving his partner a thumbs up.  
  
-------------------------  
  
Callie smiled as the TurboKat swooped over the raised platform on which she and the Mayor stood. The jet twisted through a double barrel roll before rocketing away, down the length of the parade route. Good thing the notions of any large balloons had been shot down just because of the risk of the jet colliding with one. T-Bone was in fine form today. Of course, he and Razor *were* the center of attention. What pilot in his shoes - or lack thereof - could resist a little grandstanding?  
  
Beside her, Manx beamed, surveying the crowds he was sure were packed with votes. Upon seeing how popular the parade was, he had immediately appropriated all the credit for himself.   
  
Callie shrugged at the thought, adjusting her glasses. Let the Mayor have the credit. The ones she'd wanted to thank with the parade knew it was her doing, and that was enough for her.  
  
Though Commander Feral had hardly been happy.   
  
The blonde she-kat shot the Enforcer Commander a glance around the somewhat rotund Mayor. The tall kat was standing at the base of the platform. A permanent scowl settled on his face as he swatted away the platform's red and blue bunting, still fluttering in the TurboKat's wake.  
  
But, he hadn't protested the SWAT Kat Day Parade as much as she'd expected. Not for the reasons she'd expected anyway. He was firmly convinced that it would be a prime time for one of the supervillains with a grudge to strike. And, she couldn't deny the threat, but it was the unfairness of it she'd thought he'd rebel against. Callie sighed at that and looked away. She had tried so hard to get the Enforcers included in the festivities as more than crowd control. She didn't always agree with Feral's methods, but Feral and his kats did their job as well as they could with Manx and the City Council on the Commander's back.   
  
Callie focused her green gaze out on the sky once more. Best not to dwell on that. There was nothing she could do about that situation. Not now. And, Manx was hardly keeping "SWAT Kat Day" as a permanent institution like the annual 7th of August Parade.* Just one small thank you... that she was sure was much appreciated.  
  
Beside her, Mayor Herbert Manx fidgeted, pulling a gold watch from his waistcoat and checking the time.   
  
"Well, Callay, the guests of honor are right on time," he drawled. "Perhaps we should start?"  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
As the TurboKat cavorted across the sky for the pleasure of her crew's cheering fans, Mayor Manx's amplified voice boomed across the street. "Citizens of MegaKat City - I give you... THE SWAT KATS." His voice dropped to its best effort at suave. "And, when election day comes, just remember this parade... and he who gave it... fondly."   
  
Before he could think of more, the drum major cued the band to launch into their finale.  
  
T-Bone couldn't hear the sound, but he saw the opening in the street below as the bands made room for the jet to land. He knew his cue when he saw it.  
  
"ROCK AN' ROLL!!!!!" the tabby pilot roared, almost as loud as the jet he piloted, as he let the TurboKat thunder over the street one last time, skimming just above the buildings.   
  
"T-Bone,...," Razor started but stopped as they descended among the skyscrapers just beyond the last of the crowd. Ahead loomed an overpass, growing ominously closer by the minute. For a handful of seconds, Razor drummed anxious fingers against the arm of his ejektor seat. He reached a conclusion quickly. Yes, T-Bone most certainly *would* do it. Shunning speech, the orange-furred SWAT Kat opted for getting a good grip on the handgrips beside his seat instead.  
  
The TurboKat hurtled over the overpass, looping sharply and rocketing back to plunge underneath the structure... *upside-down*. Teeth clenched, Razor waited for the inevitable sound of a stabilizer scraping the ground, eyes closed.   
  
Fortunately, it never came.  
  
"Wakey-wakey, Jakey," T-Bone's voice teased as the slim weapons officer felt the jet rise into the air again and right itself.  
  
"Ha, ha," Razor snapped, opening his eyes and straightening in his seat. "You want me to have a real good memory of my kittenhood, don't you, T-Bone?" he muttered.  
  
"What makes you say that?" T-Bone innocently inquired as he headed the jet back toward the parade.   
  
It wasn't until he'd cut back on the throttle and deployed the VTOL engines, spinning the hovering jet to face the same direction as the bands below, that Razor replied.  
  
"Only the fact that you make my life flash before my eyes about three or four times a day," the orange-furred kat hissed playfully.  
  
The big pilot chuckled in reply, grinning mischievously into the mirror for his partner's benefit.   
  
As the music pulsing into the cockpit via the TurboKat's exterior speakers swelled, T-Bone focused on business and brought the jet down to hover just a few feet above street-level. Skillfully, he positioned it in the open space created just for that purpose between two bands. As he did so, gusts of air from the VTOL engines blew stray paper and streamers high into the air, surrounding the jet in a shimmering aura.   
  
T-Bone doublechecked his controls and nudged the TurboKat forward gently, bringing it into position directly behind the lead band and startling several drummers. The two SWAT Kats chuckled as the drummers, who had been staring back at the jet wide-eyed, suddenly realized that the band was several feet ahead of them and double-timed it to catch up. While the twosome were still chuckling, the song ended and the parade halted. Everyone waited expectantly.  
  
T-Bone feigned a studied air as he set the TurboKat down gently. "Could land her on a dime," he murmured, round face breaking into a smile as he opened the canopy.  
  
Amid thunderous applause and a shower of streamers the twosome leapt to the ground. Surveying the crowd, Razor quickly quelled a brief shudder of nervousness.   
  
--Remember, they're looking at Razor, not Jake. Nothing to worry about. Just look cool. Like T-Bone.-- He cast a sidelong glance at his partner. T-Bone was smiling his most charming smile and doing everything shy of openly flexing his muscles to pose himself in the best way possible to ham it up. --Okay, maybe not like T-Bone,-- Razor amended.   
  
Meanwhile, with another nod from the director, the drum major signalled the band to start "Summon the Heroes."** The brass players raised their horns to their lips, and the first trumpet prepared for his opening solo. At the last second, his memory failed him. What was that opening note?   
  
--I know this. I know this. We practiced.-- Frantic thoughts darted in his head. In desperation, he started playing the first, and only, thing that came to mind - the song they all knew *so* well from *so* many football games.   
  
The first notes, complete with the boom of a bass drum, echoed up the street. Not a few heads turned. Ears flickered in confusion. That song was familiar...   
  
Quickly covering the mistake, the rest of the band followed the trumpet player. Not a few members of the crowd looked at each other in surprise.   
  
Why were they playing *that* song now?  
  
T-Bone and Razor also exchanged a glance. T-Bone grinned. Razor grinned back, his nervousness fading quickly. T-Bone's grin was infectious.  
  
Seconds later, the two SWAT Kats were doing the Macarena to the roar of a screaming crowd. Well, more or less. Neither was much of a dancer and both ad libbed any move they forgot. No one seemed to care.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
"Are you getting this, Jonny?" Ann Gora managed around laughter. The SWAT Kats doing the Macarena? This was great!   
  
"Better believe it!" Jonny returned.   
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Watching the spectacle, Commander Feral allowed himself to briefly bury his face in one, large hand. "I am *not* seeing this," he moaned to himself.  
  
A tap on the shoulder snapped him instantly from the moment. He looked up sharply to find his niece, Felina, grinning up at him. She was off-duty today. Her hair, usually matted flat to her head by a helmet, was brushed to a much more natural look, falling off her shoulders rather than curling upward from under the helmet. Feral was almost surprised to see her out of uniform. She was almost as much of a workaholic as he. And, the T-shirt she was wearing, adorned with a large, yellow smiley face, was very out of character. Probably a gift from that lieutenant she'd been hanging out with.   
  
Feral frowned inwardly at that. But, it was a feeling of fatherly protection and nothing personal against the gray-furred Lieutenant McFurland. Though Feral did think he was a bit of a goofball, at least it was nice to see her having a personal life.   
  
That aside, he was doubly grateful she wasn't wearing one of those SWAT Kat T-shirts they were selling either. But, she *was* up to something. He looked the black-haired she-kat in the eye.   
  
Felina returned the gaze.  
  
"Uncle," her smile was pure evil, "Some of the crowd want you to move down - the look on your face is scaring small children."   
  
Feral growled a guttural reply.   
  
Knowing he didn't mean it, Felina smiled again and headed away through the crowd, chuckling as she went.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Seventy-five feet above, a pair of eyes tracked Feral's every movement as a tri-barreled weapon followed the gaze unsteadily.  
  
"One shot. That's all it would take."   
  
"Save it," a husky voice muttered to the ears of the would-be assassin. "He's not our first priority."   
  
Two sets of eyes shifted to watch the dancing SWAT Kats.  
  
----------------------------------------  
  
At last, the song was over, and the SWAT Kats' mad gyrations ceased. Razor looked out at the screaming crowd and was fervently thankful for the mask that hid his face. Not to mention enough dark fur to hide any blushes. Had he just been waving his fanny around in front of a few hundred thousand people? Not to mention cameras that would broadcast it to more? The slim kat blushed and ducked his head briefly.  
  
  
From hidden speakers an amplified voice boomed, "Please give a warm round of applause for the SWAT Kats and the MEGAKAT HIGH SCHOOL MARCHING PANTHERS!!"   
  
Again, the crowd roared its approval.  
  
Then, the thundering voice quieted to mumble, adding, almost as an afterthought, "And,... now a speech by Mayor Manx."   
  
"Fun's over," muttered T-Bone as he and Razor headed for the platform where Manx and Callie waited.  
  
"T-Bone!" Razor gasped, clutching his chest as though he were having a heart attack, "You don't think Manx's speech - written to honor *us* - by Callie I'll bet - won't be *fun*!"  
  
"We-ell, maybe if *Callie* delivered it."  
  
Their conversation ended as Ann Gora hurried up to get a few words with them before Manx could start reciting the speech Callie had written for him.  
  
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To Be Continued....  
  
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* - More or less equivalent to the United States' Fourth of July, the Seventh of August is, however, a local MegaKat independence day, celebrating when the Siamese occupation of the MegaKat area during MegaWar III ended. Another piece of my invented timeline for the city.  
  
** - "Summon the Heroes" composed by John Williams for the 1996 Centennial Olympics.  
  
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Musical Inspirations:  
  
"Summon the Heroes"  
"Olympic Spirit"  
"Olympic Fanfare and Theme" (Theme of the 1985 Olympics)  
--All composed by John Williams and as heard on the "Summon the Heroes" collection of Olympic themes by the Boston Pops Orchestra. 


	3. Too Good to Last

Title: Doubletake   
Chp 2: Too Good to Last  
Author: Kristen Sharpe  
E-Mail: skgirl@hotmail.com  
Date: May 3, 2002  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: May contain slightly more than average violence for a children's cartoon.  
Disclaimer: "SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron," its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.   
  
Author's note: And, here's chapter two, which should get the story moving along a bit more. The only real comment I have to make here is that when you get to this chapter's end, you'll probably be thinking, "Uhm... She put the wrong summary with this. This is more like ______." I know what it looks like. And... well, I'm not telling you what it is, but I will say that the summary does fit and it'll all make sense later. I hope.  
  
And, yeeee-ow! I guess I didn't botch that parade up too badly. Thanks to ALL of you that reviewed!   
  
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Chapter 2: Too Good to Last  
----------------------------  
  
Callie Briggs yawned sleepily and tried to focus tired eyes on the winding mountain road visible in her car's headlights. The road was all that was visible. Fog veiled the world to either side of the powerful high beams.  
  
"Whatta day," she muttered, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. Its florescent letters read 12:31. And, it wasn't announcing lunchtime. "First, the parade and then... that mess," she grumbled.   
  
The SWAT Kat Day parade had been fun. The grins on both SWAT Kats' faces had been more than worth the extra ribbing it had taken to get Manx to fulfill his promise. Not to mention the sight of them doing the Macarena! Callie smiled at the memory, chuckling softly.  
  
Then, she sobered. The visit she had just completed was another matter entirely.  
  
"Puma-Dyne finally offers an explanation... and it makes no sense.... Why would a technician steal a jet only to chase the SWAT Kats around with it?" Callie muttered.  
  
And, it had taken both she and Feral's unannounced drive out to the site where the jet had crashed in order to pry out that much of an explanation. Puma-Dyne simply did *not* want to discuss the incident. Feral had been much less satisfied than the petite Deputy Mayor, staying on to survey the area and harass anyone on hand.  
  
With a sigh of frustration, Callie drummed her fingers on the wheel and stared into the darkness beyond the car's headlights. The darkness offered no answers.  
  
"I'm too tired for this right now," she decided at last. "I can't wait to get home and get some sleep." The sentence became a yawn as she reached up to rub sleep from one eye.   
  
Then, forcing both eyes open, she kept a wary gaze on the road as she drove into a stretch that had been blasted out of the side of the mountain. A sheer wall of rock rose to her right and, to her left, the mountain dropped away abruptly. A guard rail was the only barrier between her car and a misty abyss.  
  
Without warning, the entire road began to vibrate. The asphalt rippled in a sudden, wave-like motion. With a gasp of surprise, Callie slammed on the brakes. Her car skidded across the bucking road and through the guard rail with a metallic shriek. Catching briefly on the shattered rail, the car's hinder part slewed around so that the vehicle was parallel to the mountainside as it slid down the steep incline.   
  
Then, before Callie could even vocalize a scream, it was over. The car had careened into a stubby tree that, miraculously, held it and stopped.  
  
Loose shale tumbled down into the darkness for some minutes more. Then, there was only silence.  
  
Her entire body aching, Callie raised her head slowly and surveyed the scene. Her breath came in quick gasps as she tried to move only her head, afraid any sudden movement would send the car into the nothingness below.  
  
"I've got to get help," she stuttered.   
  
The communicator. Where was her comlink to the SWAT Kats?   
  
"My purse," she answered her own question, searching the car. It had been in the passenger's seat. Now, with her car tilted downhill, it was lying against the door on the passenger's side. "If I could just reach my communicator," Callie mumbled to herself, leaning toward the other seat and slowly reaching for the outstretched shoulder strap of her purse.  
  
As her weight moved, the car shifted dangerously. In one swift movement, Callie grabbed the strap and pulled the purse to her.  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
All was quiet in the MegaKat City Salvage Yard, its tenants worn out from the day's excitement. Jake was sleeping soundlessly with his head buried under his pillow in an attempt to block the deep, rumbly snores emanating from the bed to   
his left, where Chance was doing his finest impression of a saw mill.  
  
Suddenly, the klaxon broke the night's relative silence with its unearthly wail. First in the hangar, then relaying to the second floor to another klaxon disguised as a smoke detector.  
  
Jake was forcibly jolted awake. "Wha?" he muttered, every muscle tensing. He directed blurry eyes toward his alarm clock and found only the darkness beneath his pillow. Confused, he struggled to sit up, finding his legs bound together. "What is...?!" he howled, fighting to extricate himself from what quickly proved to be his pillow and his thin, tangled sheet.   
  
Chance, apparently, had no such problems.   
  
"Trouble," the big kat muttered groggily as bounced out of his bed. He aimed for the door just beyond Jake's bed. In one powerful leap, Chance lunged onto the middle of his friend's bed, using it as a springboard for the door.   
  
Jake only had time to let out a strangled yelp before his larger friend slammed into the bed. One huge foot made contact with the mattress before the big kat leapt off and bounded out the door, having narrowly missed coming down on Jake's stomach.   
  
Recovering, Jake catapulted out of bed and after his partner, yelling, "That one's gonna cost ya', pal!"  
  
Chance reached the alarm first, moving more by instinct than his bleary, unadjusted eyes, and punched the intercom button. With a final surprised bleat, the alarm was silent and a sizzle of static filled the hangar.   
  
"SWAT Kats, I'm on MegaKat Mountain Road." Callie's voice cut through the static.   
  
High and scared, the quivering soprano reached Jake's ears as he leapt down into the hangar, ignoring the ladder altogether, and hurrying up beside his friend. The sound shattered any illusion the slim kat had held that this might be a minor emergency.  
  
"There was an earthquake, and my car went off the road," the quaking voice continued. She gasped slightly an instant later, her heavy breathing huffing into the comm unit.   
  
Chance's green eyes flared wide, pupils dilating far more than even the darkened room required as he and Jake waited for her to speak again. Waited. Prayed.   
  
Earthquakes had become common in the MegaKat Mountains ever since the PastMaster had raised the ancient pyramid of Katchu Picchu from its resting place on a fault line. None had been deadly yet, but the seismologists monitoring the situation had speculated that a major quake could be coming.  
  
At last, Callie found her voice again. "I'm on the side of a cliff. I really, really need your help."  
  
"Hang on, Miss Briggs. We'll be right there," Chance barked, quickly slapping the intercom button to end the transmission and racing toward his locker. Silently, he prayed no harm would come to Callie in the time it would take them to reach the mountains.   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------  
  
Twenty minutes later, the TurboKat's magnetic grappler was settling Callie's car onto the nearest patch of undamaged roadway. The car's wheels touched down lightly with a soft thud.  
  
Razor smiled to himself, pleased he'd managed the entire operation with little trouble, and signalled the magnet to detach from the car and retract. That done, he turned from his controls to glance down at the roadway again.  
  
Below, Callie Briggs heaved a tremendous sigh of relief and opened the driver's side door to step out shakily. Composing herself, she looked up at the hovering jet.   
  
"Thanks, guys!" she called, waving to draw their attention.  
  
"Are you alright?" T-Bone yelled, looking down at her as the canopy slid backward, opening the cockpit.  
  
"I'm fine - thanks to you," Callie returned, smiling.  
  
Thank goodness indeed. She shivered briefly. She could still feel the emptiness in the pit of her stomach, that horrible sensation of the world dropping away beneath her.  
  
"We'll follow you home in case of any more freak earthquakes," Razor assured her quickly, almost as though he'd noticed the tremble.  
  
"Thanks!" Callie called, hoping she sounded as grateful as she felt. She turned and got into her car again, quickly buckling and turning the key in the ignition. As the engine came to life, the clock on the dash lit up, its fluorescent letters reading 12:59 a. m. "Am I ever going to be glad to get to bed," the blonde she-kat murmured wearily, looking at the clock. Then, she reached for the gear shift and headed her car down the road. The TurboKat slowly circled overhead.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Unnoticed in the rush to save Callie, a lone Enforcer helicopter watched from across the night-darkened mountain valley.  
  
Commander Ulysses Feral set the handset he'd been holding back on its rest as he saw Callie's car safely retrieved. The SWAT Kats had saved the day once again.   
  
Without his help.  
  
With a growling sigh, Feral headed the chopper for Enforcer Headquarters. He still had a report to write tonight. A very incomplete report.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
The sun was high in the sky by the time even the early-rising Jake settled himself on the couch with a bowl of cereal the next morning. With a tired yawn, he reached up to scratch the top of his head, running his fingers through his mussed and matted fur. Then, he turned his attention to fumbling in the couch cushions for the remote control. Freeing it, he turned on the TV.   
  
"Whatta night," the orange-furred kat muttered as he aimlessly flipped through channels.  
  
"Phillips Hairball Eli... I was abduc...! ...pondering what I'm pondering, Pinky? Bring you this special report.... Iiiiiit's...!"  
  
Ears finally registering all he'd heard, Jake suddenly stopped and, with a worried frown, flipped back a few stations to find the "special report."  
  
"This is Kat's Eye News' continuing coverage of the theft at Puma-Dyne," announced an unfamiliar anchorkat. "For those of you who just joined us: Last night, a fighter jet was stolen from the main hangar at Puma-Dyne's private airstrip by two armed tomkats. The surveillance camera caught the theft on film. Speculation has been that this crime was committed by our very own SWAT Kats. You may remember that just yesterday..." The anchorkat continued with a soundbyte from the parade as Jake yelled for Chance.  
  
"Hey, Chance, you better get in here!"  
  
"What?" Chance muttered as he dragged himself into the room, nursing a mug of coffee from the kitchen.  
  
Jake pointed to the screen.  
  
A fuzzy security camera image of two kats standing in front of a door appeared on screen. Their backs were to the camera. The larger of the two raised his right arm to aim it at the door. There was a flash of light from the area of his hand and followed by explosion as the metal door was rent to shreds. The kat then spun to face the camera, his face still veiled in shadow. There was another flash of light, and the screen went black.  
  
Chance and Jake stared at each other in shock.  
  
The kat had been wearing a glovatrix.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
  
Okay, soooomeone owes me some Peeps now ;) Another someone needs to get off his duff and finish "Timeless" (Yes, second someone I do know you have a new, engrossing project... but don't forget your old ones!) A third someone needs to finally admit that I truly am more evil than her. And, I think I accidentally left my Shoulder Angel Jake and Shoulder Demon Chance with a fourth someone. Could you put them in a box with airholes and mail them back? 


	4. Dark Counsel

Title: Doubletake   
Chp 3: Dark Counsel  
Author: Kristen Sharpe  
E-Mail: skgirl@hotmail.com  
Date: June 10, 2002  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: May contain slightly more than average violence for a children's cartoon.  
Disclaimer: "SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron," its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.   
  
Author's Note: Yes, this one took too long. Why? Because the vast majority of this particular chapter is new material. My entire original mystery centered around my two "mystery guests," but I realized you all know who they are (not that I expected you not to)... so that meant I needed to spend more time on that technological issue mentioned in the summary. So I am.  
  
Oh, and I've belatedly realized that FFN's new system won't allow me to use my usual symbols to indicate thought (the lines disappear when I use them, in fact). So, I will now be using "--" on either side of thoughts to set them apart from regular speech.  
  
----------------------------  
Chapter 3: Dark Counsel   
----------------------------  
  
Puma-Dyne was in an uproar. Not so much over who had committed the theft. But, over how easily it had been committed. And, that there had been yet *another* security breach. Well before noon no less than five security guards had been fired, two of those re-hired before they had left the complex and one of those two then fired again. There was little rhyme or reason to any of it. Just a chaotic mess of finger-pointing.  
  
And, it was the utter disorder that was riding Commander Ulysses Feral's last nerve. Among other things...  
  
"Commander, this has to stop! This is the *second* prototype to be stolen!"  
  
Feral finally rounded on the short kat that had been dogging his steps for the last half hour. The Enforcer Commander had not slept. And, sleep deprivation never did anything for his mood. Nor did such horrific disorganization. And, to think he'd hoped to take a moment today to check out that Blue Manx Mark II Puma-Dyne was supposed to be sending over to Headquarters. Blast it! Yellow eyes flashing, Feral fixed the portly tomkat in a glare.   
  
"Are you sure it's not another one of your scientists or technicians behind this?!" he barked.  
  
The face of Carlton Sykes, head of Puma-Dyne's aeronautics research, paled to match his white labcoat. "C... Commander!" he stuttered. "That was a one-time incident! Mr. Polekat was mentally unsta..."  
  
"He passed all his screenings before he went berserk and stole that first prototype, didn't he?" Feral growled.  
  
"It's the SWAT Kats in the security footage! NOT one of my researchers!" Sykes snapped. "You said yourself it was one of their weapons that kat had."  
  
"Yes, it was," Feral returned tersely. He had no intentions of revealing his inside information - that he knew for himself that the SWAT Kats were innocent - just yet. Certainly not to Sykes. "But, there's little proof. The SWAT Kats already have a jet that can outmatch any I've seen. Selling the specifications, or just part of them, to their own jet would be profitable enough..."  
  
"*Our* jets are far superior to..."  
  
"So you've told me," Feral interrupted. "But, the day after a parade in their honor?"  
  
"What better time than at the height of popularity!"  
  
"Hmm, but in their familiar 'hero' costumes? It doesn't add up."  
  
"Commander!" Sykes' face was reddening beneath his fur. "Are you *defending* the SWAT Kats?! I thought you, of all kats....!"  
  
Again, Feral cut him short. "And, it's just because of my known dislike for the SWAT Kats that I need solid proof before I start making arrests. Good day, Doctor." With that, the Commander was gone, leaving the blustering Sykes in his wake.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
At the Salvage Yard, Chance and Jake's puzzlement, and worry, was deepening.  
  
"So whodya think those guys were, buddy?" asked Chance, indicating the TV with a wave of the remote control he'd commandeered.  
  
"Y'got me. It was so dark you couldn't really see their faces," Jake replied, his face set in that frown that meant he was thinking.  
  
"Feral'll blame us," Chance predicted. "Get ready for another APB on the SWAT Kats."  
  
"No, he won't." Jake's face broke into a grin with the thought that had just occurred to him.  
  
Chance blinked at the grin. "Whadya mean? Is it National No APB Day?"  
  
Jake stifled a laugh. "No. I mean, we have an alibi," he returned smugly. "Callie."   
  
----------------------------------------------------  
  
Callie Briggs had called in sick. It wasn't entirely a lie. The previous day and early morning's hectic events had left her stomach more than a little uneasy. So, she was than willing to inform the Mayor that she was not coming in to work but could work on his speeches at her apartment. Manx, preoccupied with an impending golf game with Mr. Young - a re-match, in fact, since the Siamese businesskat had beaten him five out of six games - had blithely told her to relax and hung up.  
  
"Of course, *that* will only last until he remembers it's an election year and he needs a fresh publicity stunt," Callie muttered to herself as she drew her legs up to her chin and swapped her worn paperback to her left hand. In light of that fact, her phone was safely disconnected, her e-mail was being pointedly ignored, her cel phone was buried in her purse back in the bedroom and her TV was silent.  
  
Which was why the knock at the door so surprised her.  
  
Startled, Callie grabbed up a too heavy winter robe. It was hardly the height of summer fashion, but it made up for the lone extra large T-shirt she was wearing. Securing the robe, the blonde she-kat made her way to the door and opened it. She was greeted by a thin kat in an ill-fitting button-up shirt with an equally ill-matched tie.  
  
Upon seeing her unusual attire he blinked and then busied himself straightening his own. "Er... Your Honor... That is, Deputy Mayor..." His voice was a nasal stutter that finally relaxed enough for him to relay his message. "The... er... City Council requests your attendance at an emergency meeting called for three o'clock this afternoon."  
  
It took Callie a moment to respond with a proper acknowledgment and excuse herself. The meeting would begin in a little less than an hour. She needed a good shower to make herself presentable. But, that wasn't what had left her so surprised. It was that the Council would call an emergency meeting - what emergency? - and that they wanted *her*. City Council meetings were the one thing the Mayor handled personally, usually finding some other pressing duty for her to manage. That fact alone had long added substance to her private suspicions concerning just how Manx had been re-elected for eleven turns.  
  
So, why had they gone to the trouble to hunt *her* down?  
  
  
With a worried frown, Callie flipped on the television set as she made her way to the bathroom.  
  
----------------------------------------------------  
  
He ran a hand lightly over the jet's sleek hide. It was beautiful. Puma-Dyne had created a masterpiece with this one. Fast. Responsive to the slightest twitch of the stick.  
  
--Still teasing myself. Drooling over jets like a kitten.--  
  
The hand dropped away.  
  
The jet was for the job. Nothing more.  
  
"We're going to need missiles," he rumbled aloud.  
  
His partner's face appeared at the rear of the cockpit, a wicked grin twisting it into a sneer. "Oh, that part's too easy."  
  
----------------------------------------------------  
  
The Enforcer Commander's mood had blackened to a rumbling thundercloud by the time of the City Council emergency meeting. The summons had been bad enough news. The personal call from the Council chair *demanding* his presence had been the final irritation. Since which he'd responded to all questions and greetings in monosyllabic grunts.  
  
He sat alone at the farthest end of the council table, his ferocious scowl insuring his privacy. From his isolated corner, he melded with the room's dark wood paneling, silently watching the Council members file in. Clearly, they'd already met among themselves. Feral's yellow eyes narrowed.  
  
The SWAT Kats were poor competition for the place of contempt in which he held the Council. It was the Council that used whatever means necessary to keep their favorite cohort as MegaKat City's mayor. It was the Council that had held an Enforcer budget cut over his head to force him to promote Senator Steele's son so quickly. The young kat had held promise before the easy ride to Lieutenant Commander assured him of a job regardless of his actions or skill.  
  
Blast them! The lot of them. Them and their self-serving, money-grubbing schemes. That disaster Manx called MegaKat Tower was probably their doing too.  
  
Feral's mental tirade was cut off as Callie Briggs entered the room. Her green gaze swept over Council chamber in a quick, distracted glance. Seeing him, her eyes briefly widened. Clearly, she thought this was a genuine emergency, and his presence had affirmed that idea. Feral's jaw muscles tightened. He knew better. That she had been called here was *not* a good sign.  
  
Collecting herself, Callie settled into a chair and awaited the start of the meeting.  
  
It was not long in coming. Now that the two city officials had arrived, the Council Chair was ready to begin.  
  
"So glad you could join us."  
  
As the Chair continued, Feral opted to parrot Callie's nod instead of voicing the snarl he'd have preferred.   
  
"There's an issue we've long ignored that must now be dealt with. The SWAT Kats." The Chair locked his vermillion eyes on the slender figure of the Deputy Mayor, testing for some kind of reaction.  
  
Callie made no reply, but the tip of her tail twitched back and forth once in a quick, agitated gesture. This was definitely not what she'd expected. Far from it. The Council had had no complaints about the SWAT Kat Day Parade. Why were they suddenly acting like they'd considered the SWAT Kats some sort of threat for years?  
  
The blonde watched as two of the wall's richly textured wood panels slid aside to reveal a large screen. The lights subtly dimmed as the Chair took his seat and a second councilmember rose. Brindle, was it? She couldn't tell in the nearly darkened room.  
  
The dark figure moved to stand by the screen, now glowing a vibrant blue.  
  
"As you'll see, we've prepared a presentation concerning the SWAT Kat issue," Brindle stated as a video began to play on the screen. "While no one is denying the help they've been in dealing with the city's so-called "supervillains" like Dark Kat, the SWAT Kats are, nonetheless, vigilantes, outside the law."  
  
Callie merely nodded again. They were only stating the obvious, mincing their words. There was something more to this. She focused her attention on the video, her mouth set in a thin line of worry.  
  
Feral too watched the video, noting that it was a catalog of the numerous collateral damages the SWAT Kats had inflicted on the city. A catalog the Enforcer Commander knew well. He'd badgered his public relations department into creating it from news footage and some of the Enforcers' own archival footage. A catalog he'd personally submitted to the Council nearly three years ago. And, a catalog about which he'd never received a response.  
  
--Because they were too busy editing it to tailor to their own agenda and claim it as theirs,-- Feral mused, withholding a snarl.   
  
So, they were finally going to acknowledge concerns about the SWAT Kats. The Commander ground his teeth. This was *not* the time. The Puma-Dyne theft was not the work of the SWAT Kats. And, *that* needed to be his highest priority right now. Not playing errand boy for the Council. Not even when it meant he was finally given free rein to pursue the SWAT Kat issue.   
  
Feral watched the video play through in a state of silent seething, his fists clenched together in an iron grip. Pity it wasn't around anyone's neck.   
  
At last, the video ended, and the Chair turned in his seat to regard Callie. When he spoke, his voice was a smooth purr.   
  
"Now do you see why we must act immediately, Deputy Mayor?"  
  
Feral snorted softly to himself. They'd shown her nothing she hadn't already seen for herself. It would take a lot more than that for...  
  
"Yes, Chairman, I do."  
  
The Commander's gaze swung to the golden-haired she-kat in surprise. Her face was serious but there was none of the righteous indignation she usually leveled on him. Feral frowned. What was she...?  
  
"Good, good. Well, with that out of the way, we'll be presenting yourself and the Mayor with a plan of action to deal with this in a few days," the Chair purred, his face set in a wide, Cheshire grin. "I trust we'll have City Hall's full support?"  
  
Callie nodded. "Yes, Chairman. I'm sure the Mayor will feel the same as I do once I tell him what you've shown me."  
  
"I'm sure as well," the Chair agreed. "Well, then this meeting is dismissed."  
  
The Councilmembers and Deputy Mayor rose to leave.  
  
Feral stood slowly, dazed. What had just happened?! What game was Callie Briggs playing? *Was* she playing?  
  
Collecting himself, Feral strode out of the council room. There *must* be more to this. With long strides the Enforcer Commander hurried after the petite she-kat, hoping to catch her. Spying her entering an elevator at the end of the hallway, he was able to slip in just past the closing doors and join her in the otherwise empty elevator.  
  
As the motor purred to life and catapulted them down the shaft in a controlled freefall, the twosome stood in silence. Callie stared ahead as though in thought. She held a briefcase in her left hand while her right was lost under her mass of golden waves, massaging her temple distractedly.  
  
"Miss Briggs,...?" Feral ventured at last.  
  
She cut him off. "I know what you're going to say, Commander, but I *have* seen the Council's point. They and you can expect my support in whatever action you have to take."  
  
Then, the doors slid open, and she was gone, her heels clicking purposefully across the polished lobby tiling.   
  
---------------------------------------  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
And... uh... Not much to say beyond, again, thanks to all of you that have been reading and reviewing this thing! I'll try to keep it interesting and updated... uh... well, reasonably often! 


	5. The World Gone Mad

Title: Doubletake   
Chp 4: The World Gone Mad   
Author: Kristen Sharpe  
E-Mail: kristensk@fyresight.com  
Date: August 5, 2002  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: May contain slightly more than average violence for a children's cartoon.  
Disclaimer: "SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron," its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc and are used without permission.   
  
Author's note: I know, slow again. And, I can't even blame FFN for it because the site's been up for a couple weeks now. Aiy... Yet more all new material here. But, things are finally coming together and moving back toward a rendezvous with my original outline. I know what I'm doing... Really!  
  
----------------------------  
Chapter 4: The World Gone Mad  
----------------------------  
  
"Well, I stand surprised," Chance announced as he slid himself out from beneath a sleek white Katillac. He stood, balancing a pan of dirty oil in his hands, and looked to his partner expectantly.  
  
"At what?" Jake asked rhetorically, his voice muffled inside the sedan he was servicing. He already knew the answer to his question. It had been on his mind all day too.   
  
"All day and nothing," Chance grumbled, carrying the pan to the barrel he and Jake used for spent oil. "Not from Feral. Not from Callie. I haven't even seen Ann Gora on the tube." He emptied the oil into the barrel's waiting funnel. Then, he thumped the now-empty pan onto the barrel's lid in frustration and turned to Jake. "Maybe we should call Callie for a change."  
  
"Couldn't hurt," Jake agreed. He obligingly fished in a pocket for his communicator. It wasn't there. "Oh, yeah," he withdrew his hand, "Mine's down in the hangar. I was making some modifications."  
  
Chance rolled his eyes. "*More*?"  
  
"They're improvements," Jake assured.   
  
Chance thought ruefully as he pulled out his own communicator and punched the button to open the channel. Maybe Jake had forgotten, but *he* still remembered the test of the "new and improved" glovatrix grappling hook. A phantom pang shoot through his tailbone at the thought.   
  
Then, the pain-laced memory was forgotten as Callie's voice came over the communicator.  
  
"SWAT Kats." Her voice was toneless, empty. For the briefest of moments, Chance even doubted that it *was* Callie Briggs.  
  
"Yes, Miss Briggs," he managed after a moment, "We were wondering..."  
  
She broke into his sentence in such a flat voice that the tabby continued talking over her for a fraction of a second, her monotone drowned beneath his deeper voice.  
  
"...have seen the truth. So, don't expect any help from me." There was a pause so silent the sound of Chance's jaw hitting the floor could have been heard, if it had been physically capable of reaching so far. "And, please...," her voice faltered, emotion cracking through the banausic wall, "please don't call me... ever again."  
  
With that, the comlink in Chance's hand lapsed into static.   
  
He didn't notice.  
  
For the second time that day, Chance and Jake just stared at each other in slack-jawed astonishment. Quite frankly, something was more than wrong. Something, somewhere in the basic functionings of the way things are, had simply gone mad.  
  
----------------------------------------------------  
  
Commander Feral, for once, was thinking along the same lines as Chance and Jake were. But, from the standpoint of one far more at home with cynicism. He frequently managed to balance astonishment and suspicion in a healthy union. It was the second cardinal rule of managing law and order in a place like MegaKat City. The first was remembering that nothing was ever entirely what it seemed... and if it was, it probably meant that the furnace of Hades had been blown into oblivion.  
  
That in mind, Feral settled his immoderate frame into a large easy chair. Moodily, he stared across his apartment as the soft strains of some Classical piece he'd yet to learn the name of filtered past his ears.  
  
Despite claiming to be tone deaf, the Enforcer Commander found something about Classical music helped him to think. And, his niece, desperate for birthday and Christmas presents that were anything *but* new black batons, had been adding to his collection steadily for four years.   
  
So, with a melancholy violin at his back and a generous shaker full of proverbial salt in figurative hand, Feral mentally re-examined every detail of the fateful Council meeting. But, no matter how he twisted it, he could see no way for the Deputy Mayor to escape her own words. She couldn't very well agree to whatever anti-SWAT Kat program the Council had in mind and then turn around and continue to support the vigilantes - much as the Council deserved a taste of their own medicine - without the Council noticing and taking action quickly.  
  
So, was Callie stalling for time?   
  
Time for what?  
  
She certainly couldn't be serious!  
  
Could she?  
  
And, if she was, *why*? Why now? Why so suddenly?  
  
Feral's mind spun in ever-tightening circles as he brought the last few days' chaotic events together in his mind and searched for any details he might have overlooked. But, no matter how many or how distant a tangent he followed, he always came back to the same seemingly unimportant twenty minutes in time.  
  
The video.  
  
His own stolen video. What about it was bothering him so much? Well, beyond the obvious... No, there was something about it. Some detail he'd missed. A single scene perhaps? Had Callie Briggs seen something she'd never known before? Something in the background that had meant nothing to him? And, given the looks on their faces, had the Council known about it beforehand? How?  
  
The more Feral thought, the more his head hurt. At last, the Commander made a mental note to find the copy of the video he'd kept at Headquarters and watch it again. Maybe then he'd get some answers. He certainly needed them. And, he needed them soon. If he waited too long in revealing the truth of the SWAT Kats' whereabouts on the night of the theft, there would be questions about just *why* he'd waited.  
  
  
A growl of a yawn stretched his face seemingly twice its normal size. It was definitely time for bed, even if he still had no answers. Standing to stretch, Feral turned his head toward the apartment's bank of windows to see that the sky beyond had made the transition from evening's crimson to the unnaturally vermillion tinted darkness of a MegaKat City night.  
  
Well, the video could at least wait until morning. Now, if the city's apparently sleepless criminals would let him, he was going to bed. Finally, after thirty-six straight waking hours. And, Heaven help whoever roused him early for anything shy of imminent nuclear oblivion.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
While Feral and many of its other citizens found rest, MegaKat City as a whole never truly slept. A steady flow of traffic held the roadways in constant motion. Interstates endlessly routed travellers in and out of the city in ceaseless tides. The day workers flowed out on one tide while those who worked, and played, through the night rode in on another. Cleaning and maintenance staffs came out as the sun melted away beyond the horizon, ready to do work that would have interfered with the day's bustle earlier. Nightlife glowed into gaudy brilliance, setting the streets ablaze in a neon rainbow. And, always, always in a city like MegaKat, some of what flowed in on the tides was decidedly virulent.  
  
A car slid neatly into a parking space just a block from Enforcer Headquarters. Before the engine had barely begun to quiet, the large kat behind the wheel had flung his door open.  
  
"Hope yer right about this bein' easy," the large tom grumbled, sliding out of the car his partner had hotwired for them. As his bare feet touched the roadway, still warm from a day in the summer sun, a gusting wind clawed at his clothes. The tomkat tugged his ill-fitting and ill-gotten trenchcoat tighter around himself. It was far too small for his broad-shouldered frame but a better alternative than being seen in the G-suit he wore beneath. At least... for now.  
  
His companion had moved to stand in front of the car, his own stolen trenchcoat swirling around him. The smaller tom's eyes locked on the imposing shape of Enforcer Headquarters as he settled an over-sized duffel bag onto the car's hood.  
  
"Oh, it will be, T-Bone," he murmured.  
  
T-Bone, once Chance Furlong, now more consumed by his SWAT Kat alias than even he wanted to acknowledge, shot a glance at his partner. That cold, thin smile was parting Razor's lips again. A smile apparently born somewhere in the netherworld of cryostasis. T-Bone knew he'd never seen it before their recent awakening. Some of his memories had become distorted over the decade he'd spent in coldsleep, but he was sure he'd have remembered something like that. It sent a chill through him every time he saw it.  
  
The tabby shouldered the thought aside, his tail flicking once in a twitch of agitation. "Come on," he snapped, pulling a wide-brimmed hat from the car to cover his masked and helmeted head.  
  
Razor nodded and lifted the bulky duffel bag he'd been resting on the car onto one well-muscled shoulder. "They won't know what hit them."  
  
The twosome moved forward confidently. Assured that here, in a world where the SWAT Kats were considered heroes even among some Enforcers, their plan would come as a complete surprise. Probably the last surprise they'd be able to savor. But, that was alright. By the time the night's mission was over, they'd be well-armed, and the reputations of the two kats that had unknowingly left them for dead in the void between universes would be well on their way to ruin.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Jake was pacing restlessly between the coffee table and T.V. Back and forth. Back and forth. The rhythm was mimicked by the nervous switching of his tail. Abruptly, he stopped and spun on his heel to face the slumped figure of his friend on the couch. His right hand shot out in a triumphant point.   
  
"The comlink picked up someone else."  
  
Chance arched a brow and lifted his head from its resting place against his hand. "She addressed us as 'SWAT Kats' from the start. A stranger wouldn't have known."  
  
Jake groaned and flailed impotently at the air with both arms. "Well, do *you* have any ideas on what's going on here?!"   
  
"Alternate dimension," Chance threw out.  
  
"Can't be." Jake shook his head as he dropped onto the couch cushion by his larger friend. "Nothing even vaguely bizarre enough to transport us to another dimension has happened today."  
  
"I fell asleep on the couch while watching 'Scaredy Kat,' and this is a nightmare brought on by bad tuna."  
  
With a thoughtful face, Jake reached out to pinch the nearest of his partner's tiger-striped arms.  
  
"YE-OW!" Chance roared. "Okay, okay! It's not a dream!"  
  
"Baby."  
  
"Shut up. I'm havin' a bad day."  
  
Jake sighed. "You and me both, buddy." He stared at the silent floor for a long moment. "Chance, I think we should go check on her..."   
  
There was a blur of motion to his left. Jake blinked as his cheek fur gusted in a sudden, short wind.  
  
"Chance?"  
  
"What's keepin' ya'?!" Chance called back, already climbing down the hatch to the hangar.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
"I told you that thing was overkill!" T-Bone bellowed into his shorter partner's tattered ears over the shrill scream of countless alarms.  
  
Razor just smirked, resting the bazooka he'd concealed in his duffel bag on his shoulder. "It got the hangar doors open, didn't it?"  
  
"Not open enough!" T-Bone barked.  
  
Razor started to growl a retort. Then, he stiffened, looking back at the double doors that sealed the Enforcer hangar. "Crud!"  
  
T-Bone saw it too. But, there was nothing to do but watch in frustrated fury as a security override kicked in and brought what remained of the leading edges of the twin doors together. Now, a wall of steel barred the Dark SWAT Kats' escape. Albeit a wall with a gaping hole, but a wall nonetheless.  
  
T-Bone started to hurl a fresh curse at Razor. His inchoate expletive was abruptly interrupted.  
  
"Hold it right there!"  
  
Both SWAT Kats whirled around, levelling their glovatrixes in the direction of the voice.   
  
Enforcers were pouring into the hangar from the doors that led to the levels below. Not a few were yelling the usual instructions to come along quietly that no criminal of the two Dark SWAT Kats' temperament would ever follow.  
  
Something T-Bone aptly demonstrated by unleashing a volley of Mini-Megatons in the direction of the incoming Enforcers.  
  
"Look out!"  
  
"Get down!"  
  
Enforcers scrambled for cover behind any piece of equipment large enough to offer shelter and not loaded with anything likely to go up in a fireball. The explosives detonated around them, momentarily throwing them into chaos.  
  
"Are you crazy?!" Razor screamed, grabbing his partner's arm and digging his claws in forcefully. "You could blow us all to kingdom come usin' those things in here!"  
  
T-Bone hissed and rammed his elbow back into Razor's jaw hard enough to send the smaller kat stumbling back. "That hurt!"  
  
"I don't care!" Razor forced the words out around his aching jaw as he regained his balance. "We don't have time for this! If those other SWAT Kats show up, it'll ruin everything!" Still glaring at his partner, he fired several Tar-pedoes in the Enforcers' direction to keep them ducking.  
  
"They'll never know! Nyeir* made sure there's no one to tell them," T-Bone snapped, also re-focusing his attention on their attackers. His eyes scanned the room for a viable way to get the jet they'd loaded out of the hangar.  
  
Razor was as well, and he saw no options. "Let's just take a jet from the runway outside and blow this joint!"  
  
"Those things only carry five lousy missiles! We're takin' the jet we loaded," T-Bone growled as he fired a few more Mini-Megatons at the regrouping Enforcers, more cautiously this time. "Give that door all you've got with the bazooka, then go get the jet started."  
  
For once abandoning a snappy retort to T-Bone's taking command, Razor hurried to reload his bazooka. He could hear his partner trading fire, and insults, with the Enforcers behind him as he slid a fresh missile into place and hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. Thus far, they had only had the relatively small night shift to deal with, but Commander Feral and reenforcements probably weren't far behind.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
Commander Feral was, in fact, groggily trying to understand what the kat on the other end of the phone was telling him. He was usually frighteningly alert at obscene hours of the night or morning, but not tonight. What's more, he was reasonably sure the call was some sort of tactile dream. It had to be. Because there was no other explanation for a young sentry to be breathlessly informing him that swamp bats had invaded the hangar.  
  
Unless, of course, that blasted Viper was back. Maybe he should ask if they were *mutated* swamp bats. Otherwise, pest control wasn't his job....  
  
"Commander, can you hear me?" the urgent voice broke over his thoughts anew. "The SWAT Kats are...."  
  
SWAT Kats?!  
  
Feral sat up in bed so fast he nearly gave himself a bad case of whiplash. And, no less than 20.6 seconds later, he was what he considered to be sufficiently clothed and setting a new land speed record out the door.  
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
The hole in the hangar doors was bigger but not nearly big enough. Razor swore and raced to the waiting jet. It wasn't hard to find. It was alone of its kind in the hangar, a sharp-edged modern vehicle with short stubby wings. It was an odd bird for an Enforcer jet, but what interested the SWAT Kats was its missile bay, capable of carrying a much greater payload than the older jet's missile rails.  
  
As he vaulted to the access ladder and hauled himself up to the cockpit, Razor felt some niggling scrap of memory. He should have seen or heard of this new Enforcer jet before. But, the decade he'd spent in suspended animation had stolen any such trivial detail from his memory.  
  
No matter.  
  
His hands moved over the controls, finding an auxiliary startup sequence accessible from the weapons officer's seat. By the time the engine had ignited, he was already calling up the weapons array.  
  
He'd know what the jet could do in a minute.  
  
Lieutenant Felina Feral couldn't quite believe it was real. The SWAT Kats stealing a jet from Enforcer Headquarters? She trading fire with them?  
  
--This's nuts.--  
  
Felina peered out from behind the rolling toolbox she was using as a shield.  
  
"T-Bone, have you lost your mind?!" she railed.  
  
The big tom spun in her direction and sent something hurtling toward her. Felina ducked just as the projectile hit her shield with a solid 'thunk.' After a moment's pause, she hesitantly craned her neck out to see what it was.  
  
A two inch long serrated blade was firmly embedded in the toolbox.  
  
"Okay... Guess that answers that question," the dark-haired she-kat muttered.  
  
Then, the roar of a jet's ignition suddenly filled the hangar. SWAT Kat and Enforcers alike looked to see the jet turning toward them slowly. T-Bone immediately began to make a retreat for it. Realizing his intentions, several Enforcers moved to cut him off. A spray of laser fire from the jet interrupted their charge, burning a line across the metal floor between them and the fleeing SWAT Kat. The Enforcers were forced to dive for cover again.  
  
T-Bone, meanwhile, lunged for the jet, hands wrapping around one of the upper rungs of the access ladder. "Blast the door open!" he screamed to his partner as he threw himself into the cockpit.  
  
As the jet began to rotate to face the hangar doors, a fresh wave of Enforcers rushed in. At their head was Commander Feral himself.  
  
But, there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable.  
  
Inside the jet, the two darker versions of the SWAT Kats traded a smirk at the sight of Feral. Razor squeezed the firing button.  
  
Feral, who had long since grasped their plan, still only had time to scream, "Get down!" before the missile impacted on the hangar doors.  
  
As the metal disintegrated into fiery shrapnel, the SWAT Kats' jet leapt forward. The backward swept wings cleared the opening with only one barely nicking the door's remnants in a spray of sparks.  
  
They were free.  
  
Momentarily.  
  
T-Bone had taken note of the positions of the only two jets out on the airstrip earlier. His path *should* have been clear. Now, it was barred by two waiting helicopters, hovering just above the tarmac.  
  
But, T-Bone never hesitated. As Razor opened fire with the lasers, he aimed for the open sky beyond Feral's reenforcements. The helicopters swung aside to avoid the firepower, and T-Bone saw his chance. With a whoop of triumph, he slammed the throttle forward and sent the jet hurtling through the tiny opening.   
  
They were free. And, nothing could stop them now.  
  
Commander Feral raced out onto the runway in time to find his pilots fighting for control in the backwash of the jet's passing. The only sign of the SWAT Kats was the harsh laughter still reverberating over the Enforcer band.   
  
---------------------------------------------------  
  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
* - This is not a typo. What is it? I'm not telling you yet. Mwahahaaaaa!   
  
Yeah, I know... I probably didn't clear up any questions you had from the last chapter. But, I'm getting to it!  
  
And, yet another thanks to all of you readers. (And, all things with sugar are quite acceptable, Skybright! Just no nuts. Can't have something with nutritional value in with my junkfood.) A really big thanks this time out to Sage for playing beta reader, consultant and "person who lets me rant about being stuck, knowing full well that I'll probably un-stick myself over the course of the rant before she can get a word in edgewise." 


	6. Chasing Answers

**Title:** Doubletake  
** Chapter 5:** Chasing Answers  
**Author:** Kristen Sharpe  
**Date: **February 9, 2003 (original version)  
September 30, 2006 (edited/extended version)  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** May contain slightly more than average violence for a children's cartoon.  
**Disclaimer:** "SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron," its characters and concepts are copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, Inc. and are used without permission.

**Author's Note:** This chapter has seen some edits since its last posting. To get where I needed to be with the storyline, I've gone back and altered the ending here, changing some parts and adding a page or two of new material. For those who have read it before, you won't need to re-read the entire chapter, but you will need to re-read starting at the scene where the Dark SWAT Kats discover the TurboKat following them. Sorry for the confusion, but this seemed to be the best way to handle things to get the story moving again.

----------------------------

**Chapter 5: Chasing Answers **

----------------------------

Callie Briggs' apartment had been dark when they'd flown past. Maybe she wasn't home after all, Razor mused. He punched up his glovatrix' time display. 11:00 pm. Her comm signal from earlier that evening had come from the apartment. But, she might have gone out...

"I think I heard something."

Razor looked up to find his larger partner leaning against the door to Callie's apartment. His right ear was pressed flat against the door's smooth surface.

"I don't think that's a good i--," the smaller SWAT Kat began.

The door opened.

And, arms flailing, T-Bone fell onto the slender figure just inside.

Callie shrieked.

T-Bone squalled.

Razor hid his face in his hands.

Then, the slim SWAT Kat stooped to try and help T-Bone off Miss Briggs. An image of tomorrow's potential headlines darted through his mind. It wasn't any prettier than those he'd conjured at T-Bone's first idea of lowering themselves from the roof. This time it just involved "assault" instead of "peeping toms." Of course, the latter seemed more scandalous, but the former was probably...

A burst of pain exploded across his face as he bent over. The slim kat's head snapped back, his snout numb. Someone had slugged him in the nose!

"Hey, watch it, T-...!"

"Get away from me!"

The scream instantly paralyzed both toms. Razor froze with one hand just reaching for his throbbing nose. T-Bone halted mid-roll and mid-apology.

Seizing the opportunity, Callie Briggs hurriedly scrambled away from the larger SWAT Kat's immobile bulk, claws out and clutching at the carpet for a better purchase. Once clear, she stumbled to her feet. As she looked down on the prone tomkats, Callie's face contorted with a bizarre mix of emotions. Clearly, they were not what she'd thought at first. But, she didn't seem much happier once recognition came. Drawing in deep, ragged breathes, the petite she-kat struggled to sort the mixed signals her brain was sending.

The two SWAT Kats just returned the prolonged stare with looks of utter disbelief. Then, both began stammering apologies at the same time.

"Aw, gee, Miss Briggs, we're..."

"...sorry... Didn't mean to..."

Finally, the Deputy Mayor found her voice, cutting them off.

"_Get out._"

It was an angry growl of a voice.

Struggling to disentangle himself, T-Bone attempted to speak. "Miss Briggs, I'm sorry about... I... We just..."

"T-Bone." Razor was at his friend's arm quickly, tugging him to follow. "I think we should do as she says."

The big tabby switched his horrified gaze from the blonde she-kat to his partner.

"Razor!"

"Now," Razor returned firmly, his eyes not on his friend but instead on the oddly silent Callie Briggs.

Bewildered, T-Bone let Razor help him up before turning to look at Callie again. Her face was blank. Then, her facial features twisted again. Something broke through the mask for just a moment.

"Please," she whispered suddenly.

Then, she was gone, closing the door quickly on T-Bone's still desperate face.

Razor pulled on his stupefied partner's arm again. "C'mon, I'll explain in the jet."

T-Bone looked at him. His green eyes narrowed in comprehension. "Alright."

Her back pressed to the door, Callie listened to the two SWAT Kats move down the hall. Slowly, she let herself slide to the floor. Her hands clutched at her head.

It seemed it hurt worse than ever now.

---------------------------------------

Commander Feral wasted no time for pointless dramatics in the wake of the SWAT Kats' escape. Instead, he hurried back into the hangar and up to the control tower where he was rewarded with the knowledge that the stolen jet's tracking beacon was still functional. The broad-shouldered commander spared only an instant to be grateful for insisting on its installation immediately upon delivery. Then, he rushed back down to the hangar level. He'd already lost one Blue Manx, and he didn't mean to lose another.

He found a drowsy Lieutenant Steele and a somewhat more awake Sergeant waiting for him at the base of the stairs. The Sergeant immediately addressed him.

"Commander."

"I'm going after them."

"Sir?"

Feral didn't answer him directly.

"Steele!"

The bark roused Steele more effectively than the blackest coffee ever brewed in Headquarters. The orange-furred kat jumped, his tail bushing out behind him. Recovering, he managed to snap a smart salute.

"Sir, yes, Sir!"

Feral was in too big a hurry to analyze whether Steele's efforts at enthusiasm were based on a change of heart since the last incident with the Seeker (1) or the sure knowledge that his job was again teetering dangerously on a thin line. Whichever the case, the Commander continued.

"I want you to take charge of things here. I expect this hangar and everything in it checked top to bottom for any nasty surprises the SWAT Kats might have left, and I want as many jets as you can scramble stationed for take-off as soon as possible." He paused, thoughtful. "Check them too. Thoroughly. I've had enough surprises for one night."

A grimace flashed over Steele's features as he responded with an affirmative.

Feral's attention was already back on the Sergeant.

"The tracker in the Mark II is still functional," he began. "I'll be following it in my squad car. Hopefully, we can catch them at their base once they land. Maybe we can recover the Blue Manx without sacrificing it or any of our other jets."

Feral's face tightened at that. The Blue Manx was more than capable of dealing with a squadron of his older jets. And, the SWAT Kats had more than once proved how deadly effective they could be against greater numbers. Those numbers had just never been his own.

Feral shoved the thoughts aside. He'd deal with that when he came to it.

Continuing, he turned to make sure Steele understood he was included in the statement as well. "But, if they attempt to cause anymore trouble en route, we'll have no choice but to engage them. Have those jets at the ready."

Steele started to fumble a response.

"Yesterday!" Feral bellowed, the sudden thrust of his hand in the general direction of the main hangar indicating Steele's need to get moving.

Steele correctly interpreted the gesture and scurried away quickly.

Alone with the sergeant, Feral added, "Have two SWAT Teams standing by. If things go like I'm hoping they will, I'll contact you once I identify their base."

"Yes, Sir," the Sergeant responded. He started to ask if the Commander needed someone to accompany him but stopped himself in time. The set of Feral's jaw said this was personal. The gray-furred kat watched his commanding officer stalk away toward the elevators, tail lashing. No doubt about it. The broad-shouldered Commander would definitely need the relatively safe trip to stew alone.

Some minutes later found Feral tapping one foot impatiently as the elevator descended. With any luck, this would go smoothly enough. But, he'd learned never to trust to luck a long time ago.

And, what on earth did this raid mean! The SWAT Kats hadn't stolen Puma-Dyne's jet, but they'd certainly stolen his Blue Manx. Were they part of some larger group? If so, why now? After all these years, why start open - open and inexcusable, even to the flippant public - criminal activities now?

Feral paused briefly as he stepped off the elevator. Half of him wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe he could finally freely focus his efforts on the SWAT Kats. The other half of him, the logical half of him, said it was too easy.

The Council had practically ordered him to focus all his attention on the SWAT Kats the same day the vigilantes had lost their biggest supporter. And, it was only _after_ both events that the vigilantes had done anything... but he wasn't supposed to know that.

He hurried toward the parking deck.

Too easy.

"Are those little red hearts?"

The comment stopped Feral in his tracks. There, leaning casually against his squad car stood his niece. A small grin played on her lips as she straightened.

Slowly, the Commander looked down at himself. His long overcoat had come unbuttoned somewhere in the trip between the hangar and the garage, revealing the extent of his haste earlier. Quickly, he secured the coat once more.

"They were on sale," he returned blankly, grabbing at his fleeing dignity. Thank goodness that hadn't happened up in the hangar or he'd have been the butt of Enforcer jokes long after he retired.

Felina smothered a snicker with one hand. "Sorry... Sir. I was just..."

"...hoping to come along?" Feral rumbled. "Get in, Lieutenant." (2)

---------------------------------------

"Okay, Razor, I'm waiting."

The TurboKat was barely in the air, but the burly pilot couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Did you see Callie's face back there?" his partner returned.

"Yeah, I saw she was scared to death! Of us!"

"You fell on her."

T-Bone scowled fiercely at his partner's accusation, tossing a malevolent glare in his direction via the cockpit mirror. "I did," he allowed, "but, did you see her face when she recognized us!"

His smaller partner nodded. "And, did you see when she went all blank?"

T-Bone blinked. Yes, he'd seen that vacant look come over her. And, the way she'd seemed to be fighting something. Then, there was her voice on the comm earlier...

"Crud, she's been brainwashed or something!"

"Exactly. And, we've got to find out by who... and how."

"But, where do we even start?" T-Bone groaned.

"Well, it must have happened between last night when we rescued her after the earthquake and when she called us tonight," Razor reasoned, settling a hand under his chin thoughtfully. "We just need to find out what she was doing and where she was today. She's a public figure. It shouldn't be too hard to at least flesh out the major points."

T-Bone nodded and swung the jet around to head toward City Hall. "No time like the present."

He'd barely completed the move when something caught his eye. A flash of darkness flitted across the windows of a row of skyscrapers several blocks away. Like something passing by them. Something far too big for a bird. And, far too fast for an Enforcer patrol.

"What...?" The tabby frowned, green eyes narrowing. His gaze shifted to his Heads-Up Display. Nothing was registering. He doublechecked, averting his eyes down to his dimensional radar display. Still nothing. "Razor, you got anything on radar?"

"Huh?" Razor glanced at his partner in the mirror, then looked quickly over his instruments. "Nothing," he returned, but his hands were already keying in adjustments. "What did you see?"

"Looked like a jet flying by over there," T-Bone muttered.

This time, Razor frowned. "Hmm... Bingo! Tracking it on infrared," the slim weapons officer announced. He studied the glowing display, his face lit red in the dark cockpit. "It's staying subsonic, but barely, heading north out of the city."

"North?" T-Bone was puzzled. North was back toward the Salvage Yard and then on into the desert. Why would anyone be heading that way? "Some sorta test flight?" he thought aloud.

"Yeah, maybe. Maybe someone testing that stolen prototype," Razor mused. Remembering he'd switched it off in favor of conversation as they flew to Callie's apartment, he flipped on the Enforcer band.

A cacophony of static-laced voices ripped through the cockpit.

"...Repeat, all units, be on the lookout for the SWAT Kats flying in the Blue Manx. They are considered heavily armed and dangerous..."

"...calling for additional assistance at Headquarters..."

"...main hangar has been attacked. Repeat, we have had a security breach, main hangar has been attacked..."

The two SWAT Kats traded horrified glances.

"Holy kats, what is goin' on! We're bein' framed right and left!" T-Bone growled, pounding his fist against the side of the cockpit.

Recovering, Razor turned the volume down and looked back down at his infrared readout. The craft they'd seen was almost out of scanning range, but, its flickering profile was still visible. He studied it for a moment, comparing it against memory.

"That's it! That's the Blue Manx!" the slim kat blurted.

"What!"

"That jet you saw. It's gotta be that stolen Blue Manx. It was coming from the direction of Headquarters."

"Good, maybe we can end this mess," T-Bone muttered as he banked the TurboKat to follow, right hand tensed to throw the throttle wide open.

"Easy, bud," Razor urged quickly. "Let's just follow them for now. Maybe we can find out who sent them... whoever they are."

T-Bone's jaw tightened as his hand released the throttle control. "Roger that."

---------------------------------------

Felina glanced at the tracking unit mounted on the dashboard of Feral's sedan. Nothing new to report. The stolen Blue Manx was still travelling in the same direction. Out to the middle of nowhere.

She glanced at her uncle. Maybe now was finally the time to ask. She searched for the best way to start.

"Uncle... What's going on?"

"I wish I knew. For the moment, I'm just trying to play along," Feral muttered, tossing her a quick glance before focusing on the road again.

Felina stared at him numbly. Rare was the day Ulysses Feral "played along". Rarer still was the day he openly admitted that he wasn't on top of any given situation. Even to her.

"What...?" Felina managed the word at last.

"There's more to this than just the SWAT Kats going on a rampage. A lot more."

Felina frowned. The hand she had kept clamped around the passenger's side door handle fiddled with a loose strip of vinyl. That made two shocks in one night. The SWAT Kats' "rampage" was still unbelievable. Still unreal. She'd never kidded herself into believing she _knew_ the masked kats, but... She'd thought she knew them better than _that_.

"I'm not following you..."

Beside her, the stern-faced commander took a deep breath. He needed someone to confide in. Someone to help him pick over the scattered pieces of this bizarre puzzle. A puzzle which his gut feeling already said he would not relish seeing in its entirety. And, there was no one he could trust more. And, no better time.

---------------------------------------

With trembling fingers, the darker version of Razor lowered the top portion of the instrument panel he'd jimmied open. So close. So close to revenge at last.

"Tracker's on - Feral should be right behind us," he reported to his partner. The panel snapped closed with an air of finality.

"Good," T-Bone rumbled. He nudged the throttle forward eagerly. But, he restrained himself from slamming it to its maximum. They weren't out of the city just yet. And, their destination was just on the other side of the Tiger River. "Time to pay our goody-goody doubles a visit." His face split in a toothy grin. "We should have just enough time to have a little chat before Feral shows up and hauls them away."

Razor chuckled along with him. Everything was going just as planned. Then, a flutter on one of his scopes caught his attention. Bloodshot amber eyes flicked behind his mask as he studied the array of sensors before him.

No.

No, not _now_!

"T-Bone... Someone's following us."

"Duh, Feral," T-Bone snapped. Then, he glanced at his Heads-Up Display. "Nothing's showin' up," he added irritably.

"They're using some sort of stealth capability, but I'm getting some faint readings."

His partner released a deep growl. "The Enforcers have that?"

If Feral engaged them too soon, there wouldn't be time to properly frame their twins. Blast it!

"No," the stubble-faced Razor muttered bluntly. No, he knew this jet. Knew the unmistakable signature it left on sensors. "It's the TurboKat." A snarl curled his lips back in a grimace. "Crud! This'll ruin everything!"

T-Bone swore and slammed a fist against the side of the cockpit.

---------------------------------------

Felina chewed her lip, mulling over the bizarre jumble of information her uncle had laid before her. Thus far, she could think of nothing new to offer him. She could only agree that the Deputy Mayor's sudden change of mind was prompted by something personal. No help there though. She knew nothing of Calico Briggs personally. Not really. All she had was the nagging feeling that this rang hollow compared to what she did know of the other she-kat.

As to the SWAT Kats... Frankly, she knew of only one way someone could be in two places at once. And, she was sure her uncle had also come to the simple, logical conclusion that there were now more than two SWAT Kats.

_But, why... And, the kats back in the hanger... They looked just like the T-Bone and Razor I know. Why did they...!_

Feral's tracker began to emit an urgent wail.

"What is--?" Felina focused her attention on the display.

Feral didn't need to look to know what it was. "They've found the tracker," he muttered darkly.

"What!" Felina read the display.

It was flashing the words, "No Signal".

---------------------------------------

"It's disabled," the dark Razor growled to his partner as he snapped the instrument panel back into place with considerably more force than last time. He snarled at the remains of the device now clutched in his hand.

"Good," said T-Bone. "Let's shake these other pests and get out of here."

They were now rushing above the flat expanse of the desert beyond the city.

"And, exactly how're we gonna lose 'em?" Razor demanded.

T-Bone's smile was an ugly sneer. "More'n one way to skin a SWAT Kat," he purred, adjusting the Blue Manx's course toward the twisting maze of jagged outcroppings that marked MegaKat Canyon.

---------------------------------------

The dark city streets and sky-reaching buildings of MegaKat City slid away into a glittering grid of lights as the TurboKat climbed into the night sky. Then, the electric brilliance vanished altogether as the jet hurtled into the lowest strata of an incoming stormfront.

Razor winced as the jet bucked, hitting a pocket of low pressure. Much as he'd trained and much as he loved flying, he'd never come to actually _like_ that stomach-dropping sensation. "I think we're high enough," he called to his partner.

"Just usin' the cloud cover," T-Bone returned airily. "This won't be anything to worry about for a few hours yet."

"Roger that." Razor's voice was clipped. The tension bleeding off his partner was palpable, despite his easy words. The slim weapons officer was just waiting for the question he knew was sure to come.

"Ideas?"

Ah, there it was.

"Dark Kat tops my list, everyone else falls somewhere below them. Pretty much, all the usual suspects could be involved." Razor allowed himself a thin smile. "But, I'll keep you informed as these events unfold."

T-Bone snorted. "Thank you, Ann Gora."

"Well, I figured someone should stand in for her. Haven't seen her on the news the last couple days."

T-Bone's only response was a grunt.

---------------------------------------

"Where are they!" T-Bone's darker counterpart glared menacingly at his partner via the mirror.

"They fell back and climbed up into the clouds," his ragged-eared weapons officer snapped. "My sensors can't find anything with the cloud bank and all the stealth abilities on that jet." He glared over his shoulder where he imagined the other SWAT Kats to be. "They're still hangin' on our tail," he assured.

T-Bone growled. If the other SWAT Kats just followed from above, he wouldn't be able to lure them into the canyons and lose them. And, he had to lose them. Quickly. If the TurboKat was sighted with the Blue Manx tonight, they'd never be able to fully frame their twins.

"Huh..." T-Bone smirked suddenly. "Let's draw them out again."

---------------------------------------

The sudden fire of an explosion lit the desert night. The two SWAT Kats' control panels also lit with a flurry of warnings as the TurboKat's infrared detected the burst of heat.

"What're they shooting at, Razor!" T-Bone demanded.

"Beats me, buddy." Razor looked from the infrared to the dimensional radar scope. Neither offered any clue. The only thing out there was desert. The dimensional radar couldn't plot quite quickly enough to capture every detail of the explosion, but what it had plotted looked consistent with rock debris.

"Maybe it was a misfire," the weapons officer finally concluded. "Or a trap," he added cheerfully.

T-Bone scowled at him via the mirror. "Well, there's a fun thought." His scowl deepened. "I guess our only option is to check it out. But, keep your eyes peeled."

"Roger that."

---------------------------------------

The other SWAT Kats watched with hungry smiles as the TurboKat's hazy profile ghosted onto their sensors. Slowly, it cleared the cloud bank and dropped lower, drawing closer to firing range.

Dark Razor gripped his firing control, fingers spasming in anticipation. Any second now and he'd have a lock. The plan had been to run after creating a distraction in the canyons, which were still looming on the horizon. But, the Blue Manx had rear lasers that the other kats probably didn't suspect. And, it was such a delicious chance. Even if he only destroyed the jet, it would be a devastating blow.

After several tense seconds, he realized that the TurboKat wasn't coming any closer. It was staying just out of firing range, matching the Blue Manx's speed.

Razor sneered. So, they were a little wary. Well, that was easy enough to fix.

"Drop us back!" he called to his partner.

For once, the larger kat complied without comment.

As their jet abruptly decelerated, the lock tone sounded almost immediately.

Razor squeezed the firing control.

---------------------------------------

"Crud!" T-Bone yelled as green light shot from the Blue Manx. He had realized the other pilot's intent seconds earlier when the Blue Manx had suddenly lost speed. But, the realization came too late to do anything about it.

The TurboKat was engulfed in verdant light. Immediately, the control panel in front of T-Bone went dark. Everything was gone. The radar, the Heads-Up Display. Everything was off-line.

"What is--!"

For one terrible instant, he thought the jet had completely lost power.

Then, Razor's voice reached him. "It's the anti-weapons scrambler! T-Bone, pull up! Now!"

T-Bone reacted automatically, guiding the TurboKat up and away.

---------------------------------------

Unlike his counterpart, Razor's twin was confused. His sensors were detecting a hit but no explosion. Still, the TurboKat was banking away hard as though it had taken damage. He reached for the controls. He was sure he'd called up the lasers.

He was suddenly slammed back in his seat as the Blue Manx accelerated. For a moment, he was pinned against the seat, watching helplessly as the other jet's signature receded into the distance.

"What are you doing!" Razor screamed at his partner.

"Getting away like we planned," T-Bone snapped back. "Did you forget that part?" Either sensing Razor's fury or speaking for himself, he added, "We'll take care of them yet. After they've suffered for a while."

Razor was silent, his eyes watching the hazy image that was the TurboKat fading from his screen.

--------------------------------------

Please let me know if you feel like any part of the story is missing. FFN was acting very strangely when I uploaded this.

- (1) Reference to "Hide N' Seeker".

- (2) Yes, when I wrote the first chapters of this story, as well as my last several stories, Felina was a captain. Recently, I've become annoyed that I made that change in her rank since it's essentially pointless, so I've decided to edit that aspect of my fanfics and return Felina to her original rank as a lieutenant.

And, yes, Whiplash, I'm _trying_ to get to the good stuff! Honest!

Inspirational music: "Jim Saves the Crew" by James Newton Howard from the soundtrack to Disney's "Treasure Planet"


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